A New Understanding
by volley
Summary: Reed must accompany Archer and Porthos on a two day shore leave, at the end of which he comes to a new understanding of his Captain.
1. Chapter 1

This story is set just after season 3 and is my own version of how Reed comes to terms with a few issues from Enterprise's days in the Expanse

This story is set just after season 3 and is my own version of how Reed comes to terms with a few issues from Enterprise's days in the Expanse. Very grateful thanks once more to SitaZ and RoaringMice for their excellent beta reading.

111

Reed pressed his fingers to his eyes, sighing in exhaustion. Despite his best efforts to keep the Captain awake the man was now lying on one side, unconscious. He checked Archer's wounds once again: both leg and arm were terribly swollen. He touched his forehead; he didn't need a scanner to tell that the fever was very high.

Malcolm unburdened himself of his backpack and tried to make Archer comfortable, putting a folded blanket under his head and spreading another one over him. _Just a few minutes' rest_, he told himself, slumping to the ground. He resisted the temptation to lie down. He wanted so desperately to collapse on his back and close his own eyes too. But he knew he could not do that. He'd be asleep in seconds. So he reached for a nutrient bar and concentrated instead on getting some energy back. "Come, Porthos," he called weakly, patting the ground near him. The beagle immediately obeyed and Reed gave him some food, which Porthos gulped down in no time. "Good boy," he said, scratching the dog on the head. "You get some rest too."

For a moment he thought he was dreaming. Perhaps he had closed his eyes after all and drifted off. But no: this was really the sound of an engine he was hearing. The blessed, wonderful sound of a familiar engine. He had almost lost hope of hearing it again. He looked up at the pale sky. The clearing must be closer than he thought, because that beautiful object up there was definitely a shuttlepod on a landing approach.

He rose to his feet tiredly and shouldered the pack. Then he grabbed Archer's unconscious form and, with the last of his strength, heaved him onto his shoulders. The effort made him dizzy, black spots dancing in front of his eyes, and as a reflex he closed them tightly and almost lost his balance. He heard his communicator chirp, but if he put down the Captain now to answer it he doubted he'd be able to pick him up again. After a moment he felt he had regained enough balance to stagger forward.

§§§ _Two days earlier_ §§§

"The inscribed column is in a small clearing in the thick of the forest," T'Pol explained, pointing with a delicate finger to a spot on a padd and showing it to Archer. According to my calculations, it will take you approximately eight hours to reach it."

"Good," the Captain said, with barely concealed enthusiasm. "I'm looking forward to a nice hike."

Doctor Phlox had been insisting for some time that Archer badly needed a break from routine, saying that he had been under a considerable amount of pressure and for far too long, and displayed all the symptoms of stress. He was right, of course. Their mission in the Expanse had been no easy ride, especially for the person in command of it. So when they came across an M-class planet with what looked like a mysterious column in the middle of its wilderness, Archer decided it would be nice to mix business with pleasure and investigate the strange artefact. Their scans showed no other structure existed on the whole uninhabited planet, and this had piqued his interest. He would take this brief shore leave while Enterprise rendezvoused with a Denobulan ship a few light-years away. One of Phlox's countless relatives served on it and the doctor had asked if he could take advantage of the opportunity and go meet him. Archer, of course, had been delighted to grant his amiable CMO this small favour.

"Is there anything special I should know about this planet, T'Pol?" the Captain enquired politely.

"No particular dangers, that I can tell," she replied levelly. "No fauna. Temperatures are mild during the day but drop considerably at night, down to around -5 C°."

"I think I'll survive," Archer commented with a wide grin.

"I suggest that you and Lieutenant Reed bring a tent for the night, as sleeping-bags alone won't…"

"Lieutenant Reed?" Archer interrupted her. "Wait a moment, I don't remember saying anything about Malcolm accompanying me," he said charging the words with unmistakable meaning.

"Captain, I'm sure I don't need to remind you that Starfleet regulations forbid you to leave the ship alone," T'Pol calmly replied. "Commander Tucker has a full schedule of upgrades that will keep him busy for the next few days. I promised Doctor Phlox I would help him verify the compatibility of Denobulan physiology with a Vulcan technique for lowering blood pressure. I believe Lieutenant Reed, as Security Officer, is the best person to go with you on your… shore leave, Captain," she concluded arching her eyebrows.

Archer looked annoyed. "Starfleet has us all go through survival training," he replied. "Don't you think I can take care of myself for a couple of days?"

"That is hardly my concern, Captain," T'Pol answered, unfazed. "I'm simply following procedure. I would be amiss if…"

"Alright, alright," Archer interrupted her once again resignedly. "Inform Lieutenant Reed that he's about to spend two days alone with his captain and Porthos. I'm sure he'll be overjoyed. I thought this was supposed to be _my_ R&R!" he complained under his breath.

"I wasn't aware that you would consider the presence of a crewmember with you on the planet an obstacle to your relaxation," T'Pol commented.

She had him cornered. "Oh, no, no, no 'obstacle' at all," Archer replied wryly, surprised that he'd been overheard. "Dismissed," he hastened to add, before she could say another word.

T'Pol nodded and left the ready room. Archer leaned back in his chair, his mouth shaped into a lopsided smirk. Reed was a fine officer and a friend, but Archer had never been able to make the man feel relaxed in his presence. Lately he seemed even stiffer than usual around him, and Archer could not say that he was looking forward to spending two days in his company alone.

* * *

The column was tall and round, and was made of some sort of pinkish stone, which the powerful rays of the declining sun seemed to set on fire. It was carved all around, from top to bottom, and reminded Archer of something he had seen in a book on ancient Rome. He wondered if also these carvings told some story, like those on Trajan's column. _Hoshi will have fun deciphering them_, he thought.

It stood in the centre of a small, circular clearing, and was surrounded on one side by tall stalks surmounted by blue cones, arranged in a semicircle. Archer looked at it in awe from the edge of the forest where he had come to a halt. Malcolm had joined him and was standing at his side, while Porthos had run a few metres ahead and was lying in the tall grass, tired after the day-long hike.

"It's quite something," the Captain said after a moment, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight. "It doesn't look very old. I'm curious to scan it, to confirm its exact age."

"I wonder who erected it and why," Reed commented, his hand unconsciously going to the phase pistol strapped onto his leg. "Hopefully they are no longer around," he added. "I don't like surprises."

Archer shot him a side glance. "For all you know, Malcolm, they may be very friendly people."

"It could be, Sir. But in these past three years that's not often been the case," Reed replied flatly. Before Archer could comment he added, "Perhaps I ought to pitch our tent, Captain. I've calculated that we have about one hour of light left, and the temperature is dropping fast."

"Good of you to offer, Lieutenant, thank you. I'll use that time to take a few scans and pictures."

They put down their backpacks. Reed busied himself with his self-inflicted task while Archer got his scanner out.

"Those… _flowers_ are really quite odd," Malcolm grumbled, eying the cones suspiciously while, down on his haunches, he got ready to begin his job. "They almost look like sentinels, standing watch in a semicircle around the column."

"Yeah," Archer replied with a soft laugh, slightly amused by the military man's metaphor. "Although I'm not sure 'flowers' is the right word for them. I've never encountered flowers that were taller than I am; and these cones have no petals that I can see. If it weren't for their vivid blue colour they'd be outright ugly, if you ask me. But it _is _strange the way they are placed around the artefact. It's as if someone put them there."

"It certainly appears that way, Captain," Reed agreed, frowning. "I didn't notice any others in the forest."

Archer got his camera from the pack and strutted towards the monument, bending down to pat Porthos on his head as he passed by. As he approached the column he began to walk slowly around it, admiring the intricate carvings. Porthos raised his head and whimpered, and Archer glanced at him briefly.

"Hey boy, had enough of running for one day?" he asked. "Just give me a few minutes, while Malcolm pitches our tent. Then I'll feed you and you can go to sleep."

Reed turned to the beagle which, having recognised his name, was trotting towards him. Suddenly the corner of his eye caught movement in the distance and he immediately re-focused his gaze, his hand going automatically to the phase pistol. The Captain was standing before the column, lifting his scanner to it, and Reed allowed his tense muscles to relax, shaking his head at his ingrained propensity to over-react. He was about to divert his attention again when he saw them: the flower-cones closer to Archer had turned towards the Captain as if they were looking at him or… could it be that…

Malcolm felt a rush of adrenaline. "Captain!" he cried out in warning as he jumped to his feet, phase pistol drawn. Too late. There was a soft rattling sound and Archer fell to his knees with a groan.

Reed saw Porthos took off like a bullet towards his master. "Porthos, stay!" he ordered, and his voice must have carried the urgency he felt because the beagle suddenly stopped and sat down obediently. In a couple of nimble strides Malcolm was beside the dog. He put one knee down and grabbed Porthos's collar, his eyes and aim never leaving the treacherous plants. His mind was racing, debating whether he should fire. But there were at least a dozen of those cones, and he'd never be fast enough to take them all down before they could inflict more damage. If he fired and the plants reacted of one accord the Captain would be in serious trouble.

"Captain?" he called tensely.

"What the hell happened?" Archer replied with a grunt, cradling his left arm.

"The flowers, Sir," Reed warned him. "Be careful. Can you move away?" As Archer began to shift, Malcolm added, "Slowly, Sir."

Archer didn't reply and turned his head up to look at the blue cones. He slowly rose to his feet, and Reed saw another cone unhurriedly follow the Captain's movement. He trained his pistol on it, ready to shoot but still not wanting to trigger a reaction.

Porthos began to whimper and become agitated, tugging against Malcolm's restraining hand, and the lieutenant clenched his teeth against another rush of adrenaline. "Captain?" he called again in a strained voice.

"Yes," Archer replied quietly this time, starting to back away inch by inch.

"Stay, Porthos!" Malcolm ordered once more under his breath, and the dog obeyed.

Archer had backed a few steps when he suddenly stumbled on something and lost his footing. Reed saw the plants quiver and heard the rattling sound again, and knew in a flash that he could waste no time. He fired in rapid succession and the cones began to fall. _One, two, three - _he heard another grunt of pain and saw the Captain sway and struggle to regain his balance as he scrambled back clumsily. _Four, five - _in a few strides he was at Archer's side and had grabbed hold of him. _Six, seven_ - Reed lowered the pistol and a moment later, with Porthos running wildly around their legs and threatening to make them fall, they had put a safe distance between them and their enemy.

Archer collapsed onto the ground with a grimace. "Enough, Porthos," he muttered through gritted teeth, as he tried to curb his dog's show of affection. Reed took a close look at the Captain's wounded arm, a worried frown on his face. A round cluster of blue thorns was embedded in it and Archer hissed in pain when Reed touched the limb.

"Damn!" the Captain cursed. Reed glanced at the man's left leg, where he had received a second similar injury, and jumped to his feet. Soon he was back at his side with the med kit. He cut the uniform around the arm wound; the skin appeared red and swollen.

"You're reacting rapidly to these thorns, Sir." His voice was tense but remained calm. "Do you think you can remove the ones in your leg while I take care of these in your arm?"

"I'll do my best," Archer groaned, taking a pair of tweezers Reed was handing him.

Some time later Malcolm had cleaned and disinfected the wounds, and applied bandages. He tried to hail Enterprise but the ship was out of range. They were on their own.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

222

The sun was just about setting and it had gone quite cold. Reed glanced at Archer; he was shivering slightly. "I'll get you a thermal blanket while I finish with the tent, Captain," he said. "The temperature is dropping fast."

Archer nodded. As Reed was walking away he said, "Thank you for keeping Porthos out of harm's way, Malcolm."

The lieutenant stopped in his tracks and turned. "He knows how to obey an order, Sir. Most of the time that's a good thing," he commented in a low, enigmatic voice. He walked away before the Captain could ask what he meant.

After bringing back the blanket, Reed scrutinised their surroundings. Quite a few of those creepy flowers were still standing, but they didn't seem to pose any threat from a distance. He found a spot that was protected by some thick bushes and a little later the tent was up.

"I got your sleeping bag out, Sir. It's inside the tent," he said, approaching the Captain who was scratching Porthos distractedly behind the ears. "It's important that you keep warm."

"Warm… It was goddamned warm when the weapon exploded," Archer murmured petting the beagle, which appeared to be almost asleep.

Reed frowned, unsure he had understood. "Sir?" he enquired hesitantly.

"The explosion, I felt it on my back." Archer gave a soft snort, and instantly Reed realised he was talking about the Xindi weapon. "It was just for a fraction of a second, before Daniels pulled me out. But I'll never forget that monstrous wave of heat, and the feeling of… void. Of helplessness," he said flatly, raising his eyes to the lieutenant.

Reed was riveted to the ground, numb with more than cold. He met the Captain's gaze with unease, but in the fading light he could not read Archer's expression. "It should have been me, Sir," he commented in a low voice.

He should have been the one who blew up the weapon. Instead, he was the one who had to go back to the ship and tell everyone that Archer had died doing his job. He was angry and frustrated, and perhaps even a bit sad that Archer had taken that job on himself as if his Armoury Officer couldn't be trusted to…

Malcolm shook his head, trying to derail that train of thought. "You should have let _me_ do it. That was a job for your Armoury Officer," he simply said, his voice quiet but firm.

Archer burst out laughing, startling Malcolm and making Porthos's head jerk up. "My Armoury Officer had no armour," he said with contorted humour, and in the silence his voice sounded quite loud. "No armour and no army." Reed felt a stabbing pain through the surprise caused by the Captain's strange mood. "Only arms. And heart," Archer continued, sombre again. "But I would not condemn them to annihilation."

Malcolm frowned. "I was prepared to die to fulfil our mission, Sir," he said darkly. _I wasn't prepared to let my Captain blow himself up doing my bloody job_, he surprised himself thinking.

Archer just giggled and a suspicion crept into Reed's mind. Hesitantly, he knelt down. Something was wrong with the man and Malcolm's muscles tensed as he noticed his dilated pupils.

"Captain," he said in concern, holding out an arm to help him up. "You had better get some rest."

"Yes, good thinking," was the mumbled reply. "Rest."

Archer groaned in pain as he put weight on his injured leg. Malcolm saw him sway and grabbed him awkwardly to allow him to regain his balance. With some difficulty he got him into the tent and his sleeping bag. Porthos curled up beside his master and in no time they were both asleep.

Reed got out a medical scanner and checked Archer over. He could not tell what kind of substance, of poison those thorns had released into his bloodstream, but it was quite obvious that it was making the man confused. He glanced briefly at Archer's sleeping form. Then, with a sigh, he got a couple of thermal blankets for himself. With Enterprise away and the Captain injured, he could not risk any other unwanted surprises, so he sat outside to keep watch, his mind going back to a conversation he had had the night before…

* * *

… "So, Lieutenant. I hear that while I'll be workin' my butt off with countless upgrades you're gonna be takin' a holiday," Trip said, faking an annoyed look at Malcolm as he accepted a beer from the lieutenant.

"You're welcome to go in my place, Commander," Malcolm replied shooting back his own version of an annoyed look, this one perfectly sincere.

Trip had appeared at Malcolm's door that night, claiming he was there for a friendly evening chat. He now sat down in Malcolm's chair and leaned back, stretching his legs forward. "Don't say it twice," Trip warned. "I could use a couple of days' rest."

Reed sat heavily on his bed, sighing. "Right. But I wouldn't call two days of trudging through a forest on an alien planet a _rest_."

"Aw, come on, Malcolm, you've gotta be kiddin'! Takin' a hike with a fellow scout, breathin' real air for a change: don't tell me you're not lookin' forward to that," Trip said with a snort of disbelief.

Malcolm took a swig of his beer and then leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, letting the bottle dangle in front of him. "Yes to the 'breathing-real-air' part. No to the 'hike-with-fellow-scout' part, if you don't mind."

Trip eyed him reproachfully, and Malcolm realised his friend probably thought he had his usual qualms regarding security issues. He was proven right by Trip's next words. "From what I've heard the Capt'n has even agreed to let you take phase pistols along. So stop bein' your paranoid self, and enjoy your leave," he said.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but that's not what's bothering me," Malcolm replied dryly, immediately regretting the admission. At Trip's puzzled expression he added with a smirk, "It's just that… spending two days alone with the Captain is not exactly my idea of R&R."

Trip chuckled. "I know you'd prefer goin' to nightclubs with yours truly," he said with a wink. At Reed's stubborn silence he shook his head. "Ah, why is it that you can't relax around the Capt'n, Malcolm?" he asked. "After all we've been through together I would've thought you had learned."

Malcolm pursed his lips and stared at the floor. _It's what we've been through together that has made me even more tense around him_, he mulled. But he knew Trip and Archer were good friends and he didn't want to hurt Trip's feelings by sharing some of his misgivings. So he just shrugged and answered, "He is the Captain," as if that explained everything.

But Trip, apparently, was not going to be fooled. "What else?" he asked matter-of-factly. "I can tell there's more."

"Nothing." Reed made a point of avoiding his friend's gaze. "You know that I am not comfortable fraternising with superior officers."

"That's bull. What about me, then?" the engineer replied, and although he was not looking, Malcolm could tell the words were accompanied by a disarming smile.

He sighed. It was not easy to put Trip on the wrong track. Looking up at the man who had been persistent enough to conquer his friendship he said, faking playfulness he didn't feel, "With you it's different, you're only a _Commander. _And it took me a while anyway."

There was a moment of silence, after which Tucker said squarely, "You didn't like some of the things he did in the Expanse, did you."

Malcolm felt Trip's gaze bare his very soul and knew there was no point in lying. "No, I didn't," he replied truthfully after a pause.

"Those were abnormal circumstances, Malcolm," Trip commented darkly. "Things got ugly. Critical situations call for drastic measures."

Reed leaned back, resting against the headboard and regarding his friend with narrowed eyes. "I know that. On a rational level I do. But I can't help how I feel. Something broke inside, and I still haven't found… the right glue to fix it," he said sombrely.

Trip turned very serious. "He's a good captain."

"Why do you think I feel the way I do?" Reed grumbled. "He earned my respect and…" he faltered.

"And…?"

"Look, it's something I'll have to work out on my own. It's just me, I suppose. Nobody else seems to have any problems," Malcolm said with a hint of irritation.

Trip ignored the clue. "It's not healthy to hold grudges. You oughtta talk to him," he admonished.

"You know I'd never do that," Malcolm replied with a soft snort.

The silence was growing heavy, so after a while Trip gave a good-natured slap on his friend's knee and asked, raising his empty bottle "Hey, is this all the beer you're gonna offer me?"

Malcolm allowed his face to relax in a small smile and got up to get another couple of bottles, tossing one to Trip. "Here is to a shore leave with nightclubs and beautiful aliens," he toasted, raising his bottle.

"Beautiful female aliens," Trip replied with a laugh.

* * *

"Malcolm?" Archer called.

"I'm here, Captain," Reed replied, taking a few strides towards the tent. He'd been standing watch outside for almost five hours. Despite the thermal blankets he'd found that it was too cold to be sitting still, so he had taken to pacing in the hope of getting some blood circulation back into his stiff body.

He bent down and peeked into the tent, careful to keep his torch away from the Captain's eyes. Archer was sitting, holding his head. "How are you feeling, Sir?" Reed asked as he stretched an arm inside the tent and held the medical scanner in front of the Captain's chest. He glanced at the readings: the man had developed a slight fever but his biosigns were still strong.

Archer grunted. "Sore all over, and my head is throbbing."

At least he definitely sounded more like himself again. Malcolm felt a little relieved at the notion and bit his tongue just in time before it blurted out the 'oh, good' that had darted across his mind: if he hadn't looked forward to being alone on a planet with his captain, being alone on a planet with him wounded had him worried, and being alone on a planet with the man wounded _and_ raving was something he would rather not dwell upon.

"Let me get you some painkiller, Sir" he said, and reached for the med kit.

"What time is it?" Archer enquired tiredly, accepting the medicine from Reed.

"Almost o-three-hundred hours," Malcolm replied.

Archer looked at Reed with a frown. "What were you doing out there, Lieutenant? Is there a problem?"

"No, Sir. Just making sure we have no more surprises," Reed answered.

Archer acknowledged with a nod, massaging his temples. "Why don't you get some sleep and let me take over for a few hours." It wasn't a question.

Reed sighed inwardly. He could certainly use some sleep but it was out of the question. Archer was injured and feverish, and they had a long walk ahead of them to return to the place where they would be picked up. "I'll be fine, Captain," he firmly replied.

Archer shook his head. "I should've known that was going to be the answer," he said.

"Well, if I may, Sir, you _could_ have anticipated it," Malcolm replied with just a hint of amusement. His smirk froze on his face when he saw Archer's face turn into the cold and unforgiving mask he had seen so often in the recent past.

"Anticipate! I'm tired of having to _anticipate_!" the Captain snarled.

"Sir, I merely meant to say that…" Reed's voice died away as he realised the man was confused again.

"I could never _anticipate_ enough, no matter what," Archer spat out. "How could I _anticipate_ that Sim would die when Phlox harvested his brain tissue! Or that there may be a chance he could live a normal life span! Damn!" he cursed. "_Damn_!"

Porthos raised his head and whimpered, and Reed flinched. He was still kneeling outside the tent, unable to move. He was not privy to everything surrounding Sim's short existence, but what Archer had just shouted in anger confirmed a few of the rumours he had heard.

After a few moments of silence Malcolm ventured inside and crouched beside him. "You could not have anticipated it, Captain," he said quietly, wondering why he was answering the outburst of a man who was obviously not totally aware of what he was saying and to whom.

"I created a being for spare parts. Who did I think I was, God?" Archer asked bitterly.

Malcolm slowly let out the breath he was holding. The Captain's decision to create a clone, even if it was to save Trip's life, had undoubtedly disturbed him. He had debated with himself whether it was legitimate and had often wondered how much Archer's friendship with the Chief Engineer had influenced it.

Before he knew it, the words were out of his mouth. "If it hadn't been Trip," he asked in a low voice, "Would you have…" the rest of the question died in his throat but the meaning was clear, although Archer took his time to reply.

"I wanted my friend back. I needed my chief engineer back. They happened to be one and the same," he said in the end, and his voice was pained. "And then things went awry. Don't they always?" he snorted. "Phlox said the enzyme that might grant Sim a normal life span had not been proven to work. I told myself it made more sense to sacrifice Sim's life rather than Trip's. As if sacrificing a life ever makes sense. As if a life is measured only in terms of its actual length."

"Sacrifice?" Reed couldn't believe his ears. "I thought Sim had gone willingly," he hissed, unable to conceal his anger. "That's what I understood."

Archer gave a soft humourless laugh. "Sure. In the end he did. He went willingly. If he hadn't though…" his voice trailed.

"If he hadn't…?" Reed pressed, even though he dreaded the answer.

Archer just looked away in defeat.

"Sim went willingly," Malcolm stated firmly after a moment of silence. He needed the reassurance much as the Captain did. "You didn't order anyone to his death," he told Archer resolutely.

"But I did in some way, by creating him… and I might have…" the Captain said hoarsely. He slowly lowered himself back down, and closed his eyes.

Reed closed his eyes too, his mind teeming with thoughts and doubts he wished he could lock away in a forgotten corner of his subconscious. After a while the sound of regular breathing told him that Archer had drifted off to sleep again, and he dared open them again. "There probably was no right decision to make," he whispered to no one.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

333

Enterprise was cruising at warp 3.5 on her way back from the rendezvous with the Denobulan ship.

"How long before we are in range to contact the away party, Ensign?" T'Pol asked Hoshi, turning slightly in the captain's chair.

"Approximately six hours, Subcommander," Hoshi replied. She busied herself with the keys of her console while surreptitiously studying her Vulcan superior. After more than three years she could tell when something was bothering Enterprise's impassive "first lady". Besides, as communications officer she was trained to read even the smallest of nuances on somebody's face. Something was definitely on T'Pol's mind.

"I hope the Captain is making the best of his shore leave," she said, trying to elicit some reaction that would tell her something more. A reply came, but from across the bridge, from the engineering station.

"_He_ probably is, but I bet Malcolm will need a week to recover from it," Trip said with a chortle. "Oh, don't get me wrong," he hastened to add, noticing Hoshi's reproachful expression. "It's just that Malcolm is a bit stiff around the Capt'n. I just hope he doesn't have to put up with too much water polo talk," he concluded with a grin. "He'd never dare tell the Capt'n that he doesn't care at all about it."

"I believe your assessment of Lieutenant Reed to be… incorrect, Commander," T'Pol calmly replied. "The Lieutenant may not be as forthcoming as you are, but I am confident that he would have no difficulty expressing his thoughts to the Captain," she said with an almost imperceptible tilting of the head.

Hoshi saw Trip lean back in his chair in surprise. "Uhm, I never meant to criticise our armoury officer, T'Pol. Malcolm is a good friend, you know that."

"I never said that, Commander," T'Pol replied levelly.

Tucker crossed his arms on his chest and raised his eyebrows, casting a glance across the bridge at Hoshi. The Ensign acknowledged it with a small smile that disappeared instantly when she saw T'Pol turn to her again.

"Please let me know when we are in range, Ensign," she said quietly. She would never admit it to anyone, it was totally illogical, but she had a… well, a _feeling_ that something was wrong with the away team.

Hoshi nodded in agreement.

* * *

Archer peeked out of the tent and saw Reed sitting crossed legged, wrapped in two thermal blankets, his chin on his chest and his eyes closed. Sometime during the night Porthos had slipped out and now lay cuddled up in the convenient cradling space that the lieutenant's legs were forming, and Archer couldn't help but feel amused at the odd sight. He painfully stepped out of the tent and the beagle immediately jumped up and ran to him, startling Reed out of his light sleep. The lieutenant's eyes flew open and a groan escaped form his throat as he brought a hand to his neck, wincing.

"Not the most comfortable way to sleep, I imagine," Archer commented dryly, cradling his wounded arm and taking a few limping steps.

"Captain…" Reed rubbed his eyes and glanced at his watch. _O-seven-ten_… _a full hour of sleep; well, better than nothing._ "I must have drifted off," he said, massaging his stiff neck. "Didn't mean to."

Archer staggered forward a few more steps and crouched awkwardly down to pet Porthos, his brow knitted in pain. "You are entitled to sleep, Lieutenant," he grunted. "You should have woken me up and let me take over."

"You were… _not yourself_… in need of rest, Captain," Reed replied, realising with a twinge of worry that Archer could remember nothing of their night conversation. "And I wanted to keep an eye on our surroundings," he added with a wary glance at the still-standing cones. "I got some rest anyway."

"Lots of it, I'm sure," Archer said, shooting him a reproachful look.

Reed stood up and stretched, surreptitiously studying the Captain. His face looked drawn but his eyes appeared clear. _At least for the moment_, Malcolm thought wryly. "How are you feeling, Sir?" he asked tentatively.

"Oh, wonderful. My head hurts like hell. My whole arm is sore and so is my leg," Archer replied with a grimace.

Reed silently went to get the med kit and proceeded to check Archer's biosigns with the scanner. "You have a fever, Sir" he said quietly. "Let me give you some painkiller and medicate your wounds," he added.

Archer's injured arm and leg had swollen considerably and the skin was tender to the touch. "I'm not sure you ought to walk on that leg, Captain," Reed said, shaking his head.

"I'll be ok, Lieutenant," Archer replied in his command voice. "It's sore but I'll manage, don't worry. Besides, the only place where a shuttle can land is the clearing where we are to be picked up, so I really have no choice."

Three hours later they were trudging through the forest and Reed was getting quite concerned. He had spotted more of those bloody flower-cones, in among the trees. They didn't seem dangerous if they kept their distance, but he could _swear_ they hadn't been there on their way in. As a security officer he was trained to notice things, and those plants, or whatever they were, were difficult to miss. To add to his worries, Archer was not well. Unusually silent, he had been limping more and more heavily, although he had stubbornly kept going. After the third time he had very nearly stumbled to the ground, Malcolm had silently swung the Captain's good arm across his shoulders and got a grip of his waist. Archer hadn't complained, and Malcolm's worry had gone up a few notches. Now the Captain's breathing was laboured and Reed found that he had to support quite a lot of his weight.

After one more hour Malcolm was ready to take a rest. The virtually sleepless night and tension were beginning to take their toll. He called back Porthos, who was trotting just ahead, and helped Archer unload his backpack and sit down with his back against a tree. Out of breath, he unloaded his own more heavily-laden pack and wiped an arm across his sweaty brow as he glanced in concern at his CO. The Captain had his eyes closed and his face was flushed, and Malcolm felt the knot in the pit of his stomach tighten. The medical scanner confirmed what he already knew, that the fever was up again, quite a bit higher. He took out the communicator and tried to hail Enterprise. No luck. _Bloody hell, _he silently cursed, _they should be more or less in range by now. I only hope they are not being delayed._

* * *

"We are dropping to impulse," Mayweather said with a frown, looking at his instruments.

T'Pol raised her eyebrows and accessed the comm. link on the captain's chair. "T'Pol to engineering," she said.

"Tucker," a familiar voice answered.

"Please report, Commander."

"We are having some problems with the warp engine," Trip explained, without going into detail. "I'm afraid we'll have to crawl for a little while."

"For how long?" the Subcommander calmly enquired.

"Ah, that I won't know for sure until I have a better look, T'Pol," Trip replied. "I'll let ya know. Tucker out."

Had she been human T'Pol would have sighed in frustration. But she could not allow emotions to unsettle her. So she just closed the comm. link and stared ahead for a few moments, before rising from the captain's chair. "I'll be in the ready room, should you need me, Ensign" she said to Hoshi. "The bridge is yours."

Two hours later the door bell chimed. "Come," T'Pol called. Tucker marched in looking unkempt. Not that it seemed to bother him. He stopped in front of the desk and looked T'Pol straight in the eye. "I won't be able to give you warp speed for another few hours. I'd say five at most. Sorry," he said looking apologetic enough.

"What is the problem, Commander?" T'Pol asked seemingly unperturbed.

"Some of the upgrades I've been working on. I'll have to re-calibrate a few things," Trip answered, passing a hand through his already dishevelled hair. "Look, I'm real sorry, T'Pol, but as you know a warp engine is a delicate machine and things happen sometimes," he said, sensing unease behind the Vulcan's virtually unchangeable facial expression.

"Please inform me as soon as we can go back to warp, Commander," T'Pol just answered.

"Sure," Trip agreed. Then he tilted his head and studied the Vulcan lady with narrowed eyes. "What's wrong?" he finally asked.

"The warp engine is not online," she answered levelly, raising her eyebrows.

"I _know_ that. I mean, what's getting you so upset?" Trip insisted.

"I am not upset," T'Pol replied.

"You're worried about the Capt'n and Malcolm," Trip stated, checking for a reaction that would confirm his suspicion.

None came. T'Pol looked as composed as ever as she replied, "I am not worried."

"We'll be a bit late pickin' them up, but they'll be fine," Trip said, following his own train of thought. "I'm only sorry we aren't in range yet to hail them. They're gonna be wonderin' what went wrong."

"Commander, perhaps you could return to engineering and see to the problem?" T'Pol said, disguising her order as a polite suggestion. "The sooner it is fixed, the sooner we can reach the planet."

"Yes ma'am," Trip replied with a grin, secretly satisfied that he had tricked T'Pol into admitting what was on her mind. "Your _logic _is impeccable, Subcommander."

* * *

"I should have listened to my instincts," Reed murmured glumly to himself as he carefully checked their immediate surroundings. "I had a strange feeling about those cones the moment I saw them."

Archer cracked his eyes open. "You couldn't have _anticipated_ that some innocent flowers would attack me," he said with a soft snort.

Reed cringed at the word that had triggered Archer's previous outburst. "If truth be told," he said, studying the Captain closely, "I had never encountered belligerent plants before. I suppose I'll have to add them to my list of potential enemies."

"Potential enemies," Archer scoffed. "You never know who may turn out to be your _potential_ _enemy_. I bet those Illyrians never thought _we_ were a potential enemy."

Malcolm slumped down near the captain and closed his eyes, feeling dizzy with exhaustion. "No, I suppose they didn't," he said frostily.

He didn't like – didn't want – to revive that particular memory, least of all now, when he needed to keep cool. To think back on the time when they had stolen a warp coil like common thieves from innocent aliens whose only crime had been to have stumbled upon them was not the best way to keep in control. He had obeyed orders, naturally, but that particular time he felt obeying orders had been a weakness rather than a strength. He had put his military training before his very ethics. He had given in to the evil of the circumstances. Sure, there was Earth to be saved, but to this day he felt shame and pain at the thought of having helped carry out such a disgraceful action; as well as a deep-set anger, directed at himself but also and especially at the man who had ordered them all to behave like bloody pirates.

He was startled out of his thoughts by a sudden growl. "We _needed _that warp coil!" Archer sounded like a wounded animal.

"That was no excuse for acting like damn _criminals_!" Reed snapped furiously. He hadn't meant to react violently, but he was too tired and his feelings on the matter were too raw and irrational, so his control slipped. And of course it helped that Archer was quite clearly out of it again.

Porthos barked in response to their angry tones and climbed on his master's lap to give and get some comfort, but the Captain ignored him.

"We _needed _that warp coil," Archer repeated in a dark and more restrained voice. "Earth would probably no longer exist if we hadn't gotten our hands on it."

"We may have condemned those Illyrians to death. We had no bloody _right_," Reed countered much in the same tone, closing his eyes tightly as if that alone could erase the unwanted memory.

"We saved Earth," Archer ground out, and Reed bit his lip.

"And I lost myself."

Something in the Captain's voice made Malcolm open his eyes and turn to look at him. He was startled to see the devastated expression on his face.

Their mission in the Expanse had brought out both the best and the worst in them; there had been too much at stake, Reed understood that. But deep down he still resented the ruthless captain that Archer had often appeared to be then, showing none of the compassion that Malcolm thought had been one of the finest qualities of the Archer of their exploring years. He was the man in command, damn! The man who had to set the example; and during the past year that man hadn't looked as though he had struggled much with his conscience when he had taken some of his debatable decisions. The guilt and sorrow, the torment that now, finally, showed on Archer's face washed over Reed like a wave of redemption. He only wished he could have caught a glimpse of those feelings in the Expanse, behind that impassable mask that Archer had worn to hide them.

"Captain…" he started hesitantly. He opened his mouth to say more, but the jumble of emotions was just too much and choked him. He passed a hand in his hair, trying to collect his thoughts, aware that Archer was feverish and raving, and that any word, even the most heart-felt, would just float away unheard in this alien planet's breeze.

"I guess that to save humanity I couldn't hold on to my own humanity," Archer said painfully, following with his eyes Porthos who, tired of being ignored, was trotting away.

_Which of us truthfully did?_ Reed silently wondered with a sudden twinge of guilt. He hugged himself tightly. He needed to voice his feelings and the fact that Archer may not remember a word he said allowed him a freedom he wouldn't otherwise have felt.

"I wish you had shown some… flickering of doubt," he said, swallowing hard. "It looked as if you didn't care, as if there was never any uncertainty in your mind, when you..." He lowered his gaze.

"I _had_ to lose my humanity. Or I wouldn't have been able to carry out my mission. I _had_ to show inflexibility, even to myself. Or I would have crumbled," Archer rasped.

And then Reed understood. Archer had been like… like a broken limb, needing a rigid, unbending cast to keep it in one piece. That's what the mask had been; that's what it had hidden: just how broken Archer had been. The realisation filled him with a warm feeling of empathy.

"It would have been good to know that the Jonathan Archer I had come to respect still existed, under that callous exterior," he murmured.

But the Captain was oblivious, his face pale and sweaty, and his breathing fast. After a few minutes of silence Reed heaved a deep sigh and scrambled to his feet. He was dog-tired and emotionally drained, and if he sat there another moment he'd no doubt find it impossible to get up again. They needed to keep moving.

Suddenly he heard Porthos bark. The dog had wandered off and Malcolm's muscles tensed. All senses on the alert, he looked for the beagle and walked up to him, phase pistol drawn. "What is it, Porthos?" he murmured, crouching near him and scrutinising their surroundings. The dog seemed agitated. "Sit!" Reed stood up and took a few more steps forward, taking out his scanner and moving it around in a circle.

_Rattle_. The sound had hardly reached his ears that he dived desperately to one side, rolling into a shooting position as soon as he touched the ground. _Swish_. The thorns narrowly missed him and drove themselves into the undergrowth. And then he saw the damn cones, half-hidden among the trees: there were four, in a semicircle. With true aim, Reed lost no time in taking them down.

"Good boy, it's ok." Porthos had come up to his side and was barking furiously, and Malcolm patted him reassuringly, out of breath from the sudden rush of adrenaline. His heartbeat was just beginning to slow down a little when a shadow came into his peripheral vision. In one swift move he turned on his knees, right arm outstretched to face the new danger. He found his pistol trained squarely on Archer, who was staggering towards them. Reed's arm trembled slightly as he lowered the weapon, and he briefly closed his eyes grateful that, in spite of his exhaustion and the emotional roller-coaster, he was still in control of his actions. He stood up just in time to catch the Captain before he collapsed.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

444

"Subcommander, we should be in range to contact the away party," Hoshi said, happy to give the long-awaited news.

From the Captain's chair T'Pol turned to face her and nodded her acknowledgment.

Hoshi's fingers flew over her console and on the planet a welcome chirrup floated to Malcolm's ears. He stopped walking and gently helped Archer to the ground, swiftly unzipping the Captain's arm pocket and flipping the man's communicator open. "Reed," he answered, out of breath.

"Lieutenant," T'Pol said, after a moment of hesitation. "Why are you answering instead of the Captain? Is he all right?"

"No, he is not," Reed panted. "He is injured and needs medical attention."

A flash of worry flickered through T'Pol's usually steady gaze. "How seriously?" she asked.

"He was poisoned by some thorns. He has developed a high fever and is confused," Reed managed, putting a hand on a nearby tree to support his weight. "How long before you're here?"

"About four hours. We were delayed by engineering problems. Are you in any danger?" T'Pol asked.

"I can't say for sure. But I know what the enemy looks like, and that's a start," Malcolm replied.

T'Pol heard the tiredness in Reed's voice. "Lieutenant, will you be able to meet us at the landing site?"

"I'll try my best. The sooner the Captain gets medical attention the better. I'll contact you, should I encounter any problems. Reed out."

Malcolm sighed in relief. At least now he knew Enterprise was on her way.

After taking down those four cones, Malcolm had collected a few of the thorns that had missed him for Phlox to examine – presumably they still contained their poison – and had resumed their march, dragging himself and the Captain on and on for what had seemed like ages.

Now, having put away Archer's communicator, he glanced at his watch. It was fifteen-forty-six and since striking camp that morning they'd been walking for more than seven hours. He didn't dare calculate how many hours had passed since he'd had his last decent sleep. He looked at his padd; because of their slow pace they were, as far as he could tell, only about two thirds of the way there. He was so damn exhausted that he briefly considered discarding the second backpack. The last time they had stopped he had left Archer's one behind, careful not to leave any technology in it. The Captain had been leaning more and more heavily on him and the weight of the man and the pack had begun to be too much to carry. But he knew he couldn't do without this one, so he regretfully dismissed the idea. He allowed himself a few more minutes of rest, while he ate a nutrient bar. Then he tried to rouse Archer.

"Captain," he called, gently shaking his shoulder.

"Hmm," Archer mumbled, cracking his eyes open. "Shift time already?"

"N… Yes, Sir, you're needed on the bridge," Reed tried, hoping the Captain would react and shake out of his stupor. He did, in some way. He pushed himself up to a sitting position and allowed Malcolm to help him to his feet.

"Why is the bridge called that?" Archer slurred, grimacing in pain. "Doesn't look like one."

Reed adjusted the Captain's weight and resumed walking, groaning under the effort. He tried not to think of how much further they had to go; the thought would definitely not help him focus. Archer was almost a dead weight now and Malcolm knew that if the man lost consciousness he wouldn't be able to carry him very far. The Captain needed to be put in Phlox's capable hands as soon as possible, so he forced himself to keep the conversation going.

"In the old sailing ships it did. And it's the place which acts as link for all the departments," he said hoarsely, as they staggered on. He had no doubt Archer would know the answer in normal circumstances.

Some time later Archer stumbled for the umpteenth time and they were almost thrown off balance. "Just lean on me, Sir," Malcolm grunted, striving to keep them upright as he checked on Porthos; the beagle was trotting obediently at their side, as if he knew it would be dangerous to stray.

"Lean… someone's wife could eat no lean..." Archer raved, lost in his own world. He moaned in pain as Reed gripped his wrist and waist more firmly.

"That would be Jack Sprat," Malcolm replied as he struggled to keep the Captain talking and his attention concentrated on their surroundings. "'Jack Sprat could eat no fat and his wife could eat no lean'," he recited. _They sound like a couple of Vulcans_.

Archer's head lolled and Malcolm cursed under his breath. He frantically searched his befuddled mind for yet something else to say. Difficult enough in normal circumstances, for a taciturn man like himself, but now it was proving to be a real nightmare. Nursery rhymes would do just fine, he decided. "My sister Madeline… she was just like Miss Muffet," he sputtered. "'Fraid of spiders… gave her a good fright once, put a spider in her..."

Archer's legs gave in and all of a sudden the weight was too much for Reed to carry. They both fell forward, with the lieutenant doing his best to break the fall. A moment later they were both flat on the ground. "Sorry, Sir," Reed murmured wearily. He felt an unexpected lick on his cheek and, cracking his eyes open, saw Porthos a few inches from his face.

"Thirsty," Archer mumbled, rolling on his back with a groan of pain.

Reed cursed himself for not thinking about it. Of course the man was thirsty. He was running a high fever. His own mind must be losing focus, he realised. With an effort he pushed himself up and reached for the canteen, offering it to Archer. "Here, Captain. It's still quite full."

"Fuller was the first to die," Archer muttered in reply. He made no motion to take the water from his hand, so Reed leaned over and helped him drink, taking a long swig himself, afterwards.

"My first crewmember dead…"

The circumstances of Fuller's death brought back yet more unpleasant memories and Reed nearly brought his hands to cover his ears, he didn't want to hear anything else. But instead he blurted out darkly, "I never thought I'd see you torture someone. That time in the airlock, you almost…." Malcolm stopped abruptly, berating himself. His exhaustion and the fact that the Captain was practically delirious were making it a bit too easy to speak his mind. He should think of getting the man to safety, not upset him even more.

"Losing my humanity," Archer said faintly. "I'm so sorry," he whispered after a moment, and Reed wondered what exactly he was sorry for.

Was he sorry for the humanity he had lost, for almost killing a person in cold blood, for stealing a warp coil, for creating a clone to harvest his brain tissue, for ordering to target an outpost manned by three innocent Xindi, for disappointing him…? Probably all of those things.

"It's alright," he murmured.

* * *

Trip stepped out of the pod and tried hailing Malcolm again, a concerned frown knitting his brow. He and the Captain were nowhere to be seen and his hails were not being answered. He got his scanner out and was about to speak when he heard a faint barking, and Phlox grabbed his arm.

"Over there!" the doctor said, pointing to his right.

Trip looked and saw the blue of Starfleet uniforms in the far distance, at the edge of the forest. He narrowed his eyes and made out Malcolm staggering under Archer's weight, and Porthos running towards them.

"Travis, get the stretcher," he shouted back at Mayweather, who was inside the pod, and took off at a run towards his friends, with the doctor trying unsuccessfully to keep up with him.

Trip took in Malcolm's exhausted look and immediately grabbed hold of the Captain. "I've got him," he said, easing him off Reed's shoulders. He lowered Archer gently to the ground and saw Malcolm collapse to his knees without a word.

Phlox suddenly was at Trip's side and immediately crouched down to check the Captain's condition. A moment later Travis was there, with a stretcher.

"Doc…?" Tucker asked in concern.

"He is running a very high fever. Some toxin in his bloodstream," Phlox replied worriedly. He injected Archer with something and gestured Mayweather to help him get the Captain onto the stretcher. "We'd better get him back to Enterprise right away, I need to run some tests."

"Poisonous thorns… got some in my pack," a weak voice said, and the three men turned as one to Reed. He had sunk back on his heels with his eyes closed and was run through by an uncontrollable tremor.

Phlox jumped up and checked the lieutenant with his scanner, as Mayweather unloaded the backpack from his shoulders.

"He's totally exhausted," Phlox said. "Very low levels of sugar." He reached for a hypospray and emptied it into Reed's neck. A groan from the stretcher got the doctor's attention back to Archer. After a moment he turned to Trip and said, "Commander, can you help the Lieutenant back to the shuttlepod, while Mr. Mayweather and I carry the Captain?"

Trip nodded and watched Phlox and Travis lift the stretcher and begin to walk back to the pod, followed by a happy-looking beagle. He turned to Malcolm and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Malcolm," he called, and Reed's eyes slowly opened. "We need to get you to the shuttlepod," he said, and after a moment Malcolm nodded silently.

Trip shouldered the backpack and lifted his friend to his feet. He looked completely spent. His trembling had subsided, no doubt thanks to whatever Phlox had injected him with, but Trip had to steady him for he swayed dangerously.

"You ok?" he asked, feeling immediately stupid.

"Knackered," was the murmured reply.

"Do you think you can walk? It's not far."

Malcolm nodded again and Trip swung one of his friend's arms across his shoulders, eliciting a soft wheezy laugh. "Suppose it's my turn to be carried," Malcolm said faintly; but he didn't complain when Trip grabbed his waist and stumbled on, soon falling in step with him.

As they awkwardly made their way to the pod something attracted Trip's attention. At the edge of the forest, all around the clearing, suddenly tall stalks were sprouting up, surmounted by what looked like blue cones. It was a weird and worrying sight; there were dozens of them snaking up from the ground.

He heard Malcolm's breathing quicken. "Too far to harm us, I think, but let's hurry," his friend mumbled in an urgent tone, finding somehow, somewhere, a residual bit of extra energy to quicken his pace.

Inside the pod Trip deposited Malcolm on the rear bench and rushed to close the hatch. Mayweather lost no time in getting them off the ground. After they were clear of the atmosphere Trip turned from his navigator's seat to look at the back. Phlox was busy treating Archer. Malcolm had slouched down and had promptly fallen asleep.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

555

The sound was that of a door closing; then of soft steps approaching. He knew he should open his eyes but was reluctant to disturb this wonderful feeling of comfort and warmth. Then he realised he didn't know where he was, his mind was empty, and he was suddenly afraid that if he opened his eyes what he saw might not be pleasant. But he had never been one to shy away from situations, so he braced himself and looked. The face hovering over him was blessedly familiar, and the smile on it comforting.

"I was beginnin' to worry you'd never wake up," Trip greeted him with quiet relief.

Reed took stock of his surroundings. He was in the decon chamber, lying on a bench. Someone had stripped him of his uniform, placed a pillow under his head and covered him with a blanket. An IV tube snaked out of one of his arms. He tried to remember how he had got there but his mind was still blank. Then, slowly, a few disconnected memories began to come back.

"Malcolm, you ok?" Trip's blue eyes were veiled with worry now, and Malcolm realised he had been staring at him without speaking for a good few minutes.

"Can I remove this IV tube?" he asked. His voice sounded terrible but he saw his friend break into a wide smile again.

"Now I know you're ok," Trip said, adding, "I think it's only somethin' to re-hydrate you, but better ask Phlox, first."

Malcolm raised one hand to his face, feeling the stubble on it. "How long have I been here?" he asked.

"Twelve hours and…" Trip checked the time, "Twenty-three minutes."

Reed removed his hand abruptly and looked at his friend wide-eyed. "I've been out for all that time?" he enquired in awe.

"Well, if we count also the time you slept in the shuttlepod on our way back, you actually were in dreamland for…"

"Forget it, I don't want to know," Malcolm interrupted him in what sounded like self-disgust. He pushed himself to a sitting position, grimacing as his sore muscles protested.

"You fell asleep like a log the moment you were in the pod and didn't even stir when we docked," Trip explained with a soothing grin. "We got you to decon but then decided not to disturb you any more. You were totally wiped. Well, it's hardly surprisin', if you didn't sleep for two days and had to drag the Capt'n all the way back."

"The Captain," Reed startled, a few more memories returning. "How is he?"

Trip sat down on a bench. "He'll be ok. Fortunately the poison was not deadly; only made him feverish and confused. Phlox was able to counter its effects pretty fast after he analysed the thorns he found in your backpack. Apparently the toxin kinda _freed_ his subconscious, or so says the Doc."

As all the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together, Malcolm felt anxiety mount. "Does the Captain… remember much of what happened?" he asked hesitantly.

Trip shot him a curious look but knew better than to enquire further, and went on to answer, "Last thing he remembers is gettin' mad at you for keepin' watch all night without wakin' him." He shook his head in mock reproach. "Typical Lieutenant Malcolm Reed."

"As if you would have done any differently, "Malcolm scowled, though he felt greatly relieved at his friend's words. "He was already feverish and confused then."

Trip pulled a wry face. "Well, I guess you were right. It didn't turn out to be such a restful shore leave after all."

"Goodness gracious, not in the least," Malcolm breathed out, swinging his legs off the bench and facing the engineer.

"Worse than Risa?" Trip asked with a soft laugh.

Malcolm smirked as he gave serious thought to the playful question. "Nothing can be worse than Risa," he replied flatly. "That was the single most embarrassing moment of my entire career." After a moment he added, tilting his head, "And this experience was not entirely negative. Some good came out of it."

"And what might that be?" Trip asked, puzzled. "A new bond of friendship with Porthos?"

Malcolm chuckled. "That too. He was actually good company and the perfect soldier." After a moment he added, seriously, "A new understanding, I suppose."

"You found the right glue?" Trip asked, referring to the conversation they'd had two nights before.

"I believe I have," Malcolm replied quietly.

Trip broke into a warm smile. "Well, that's good to hear, Lieutenant."

Reed looked briefly away before asking, "So, would you find Phlox and have him remove this bloody IV tube? I'm dying to take a shower and shave."

* * *

Archer was reading a padd when the curtain around his biobed was drawn slightly and his Armoury Officer peeked in. "Am I disturbing you, Sir?" he asked with his usual propriety.

"Not at all, come in Malcolm," Archer replied putting down the padd, glad though a little apprehensive to receive Reed's visit. Two days had passed since they had returned to Enterprise and he was starting to wonder if Malcolm was avoiding him and, in that case, why.

Reed proceeded to ask the ritual question. "How are you feeling, Captain?"

"Not bad, all things considered," Archer replied, studying the lieutenant; he seemed a little anxious too, he decided. "The fever is down and I appear to, uhm, be myself again. Phlox is releasing me to my quarters this afternoon. Still only a bit tired, that's all. "

"Well, you didn't get much R&R," Malcolm said with a faint smile.

Archer mirrored it and shook his head. "Not much, no." After a moment he turned serious and added, "I remember almost nothing of what happened down there, but from what I read in your report and from what I was told you had a tough time getting us back to safety. Thank you for what you did, Malcolm."

Reed crossed his arms on his chest and avoided Archer's gaze, looking embarrassed. "I only carried out my duty, Captain. And not even all that well, since I failed to ant… protect you from danger."

"You're not going to blame yourself now, are you?" Archer admonished him. "Flowers could hardly be included in your list of potential enemies." At the words something crossed Reed's eyes but the lieutenant immediately lowered them again, so Archer could not make out what it was.

After a moment Reed replied, "They certainly will be, from now on."

Archer looked at the man before him with narrowed eyes. Something seemed changed in him. He was still his usual stiff self but… there was perhaps a softer edge to him.

"Well, I'd better get back to the Armoury," Malcolm said, abruptly interrupting Archer's thoughts. "It's good to know you're feeling better, Captain."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." Before Reed could turn to leave, though, Archer spoke again.

"Malcolm… There is something you told me, down on the planet," he said, and saw Reed's brow immediately knit in concern. "It's one of the few things I remember, actually," Archer continued. "I keep wondering what you meant. You said Porthos knew how to obey an order and that _most of the time_ _that was a good thing_. It sounded strange, said by someone who would do just about anything _not_ to disobey an order."

_Who would do just about anything… _Reed pursed his lips. "I…" He looked down briefly at his feet but then suddenly seemed to find the courage to meet his Captain's eyes. "To be honest, I am not exactly proud of all the orders I obeyed, Sir," he said in a low voice, and his gaze was steady.

There was a long silence, during which Archer pondered the deeper meaning of Reed's words. He felt obliged to meet his Officer's sincerity with some of his own. He took a deep breath. "Believe me, I am not exactly proud of all the orders I gave," he said hoarsely. "Some of them… were damn difficult. I am sorry that they dragged you and the others to hell with me."

Reed's blue-grey eyes softened. "We had to accomplish our mission. And we did," he said with deep feeling. After a brief pause he cleared his throat and added, "But thank you for telling me that, Captain. I needed to hear it." He didn't add that somehow, albeit not with the same composure and lucidity, Archer had already told him. He nodded and made to leave. "I'll let you rest."

"Ah, Malcolm…" Archer spoke again. "Your report didn't mention anything but… just wondering… I hope I… uhm, didn't say or do anything embarrassing while I was, well, out of it," he mumbled raising his eyebrows questioningly.

Reed had just the briefest moment of hesitation. "Do you mean other than reciting nursery rhymes, Sir?" he asked in a perfectly serious tone of voice, tilting his head.

"Nurs… oh, yeah, other than that."

"And other than asking me why the bridge is called that?" Reed continued, still in a normal voice.

"Uh, I guess so," Archer croaked out, with a nervous grimace.

The pause that followed was a bit too long for Archer's comfort. Malcolm kept his face perfectly straight but the Captain was almost certain that a glint of amusement was shining in his eyes.

"I can't say I remember anything else, Captain. But if I should, rest assured: your secret is safe with me," Reed answered, slipping away before Archer could stop him again.

THE END

A review is always welcome! ;-)


End file.
